


Under the Streetlights

by PurpleIris7795



Category: Creed - Fandom, rocky - Fandom
Genre: Drama, F/M, Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:21:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27552232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurpleIris7795/pseuds/PurpleIris7795
Summary: Ever wonder what was going on in everyone’s heads when Mickey came to Rocky’s apartment that night?  Set during the first movie.
Relationships: Adrian Balboa/Rocky Balboa
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	Under the Streetlights

**Author's Note:**

> During lockdown I watched all the “Rocky” movies for the first time and fell in love with them. I hope you enjoy the story. Please, please review! As always, Rocky and all the other characters belong to Sylvester Stallone and United Artists. I wrote this for fun and nothing more.

“...News came out this morning that Green has had to drop out due to a broken hand. In an unexpected move, Creed picked a local club fighter to take his place. We caught up with Apollo at the State Athletic Commission this afternoon where he introduced us to his new opponent Rocky “The Italian Stallion” Balboa.” 

Mickey Goldmill, who had been listening to the news with one ear as he made dinner, immediately stopped what he was doing and turned his full attention to the television. Incredulously he watched as Apollo Creed spoke to some reporters, then pulled Rocky out of the background and put his arm around him. Rocky squinted under the bright lights. He looked overwhelmed and more than a little uncomfortable as the reporters began asking him questions. Suddenly the smell of smoke brought Mickey back to reality and he ran to unplug the hotplate where the pan he had been stirring was boiling over. 

As he sat down to eat the scorched remains of his soup, Mickey began to think. The New Year’s Day fight had been promoted for months. Finding another ranked contender on such short notice must have been impossible and canceling something like that would cost a fortune. They must have decided to get a local fighter as a novelty but how they decided on Rocky he couldn’t imagine. 

It was funny how life could change so dramatically in the blink of an eye. One minute Rocky was a washed up nobody, the next he had a shot at the heavyweight title. Just this morning he had gotten in a shouting match with the kid.

“You had the talent to become a good fighter, and instead of that, you became a leg breaker for some cheap second rate loan shark.” He’d yelled in front of the entire gym. 

“It’s a livin.’” Rocky had replied defiantly.

“It’s a waste of life!” Mickey had thrown back. 

As he turned away he’d noticed that the look of resentment and anger that had been on Rocky’s face just a second before had been replaced by something else. Hurt? Shame? Regret? Mickey wasn’t one to mince words, but for some reason the look on Rocky’s face had been preying on his mind ever since. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the kid. He was just thoroughly disgusted with the choices he made and the talent that was going to waste as a result. 

When Rocky first began working out at the gym, Mickey had harbored high hopes for him. There was a lot of heart and raw talent there but he needed guidance. Mickey was interested in training him until he found out that Rocky worked for Gazzo. Immediately any desire he’d had to help the boy evaporated.

Boxing was a blood sport and the violence often attracted a nefarious element that hovered in the background just outside the ring. You didn’t have to look far to find a wide variety of vices which could easily derail you if you let them. By the time Rocky came along, Micky had already seen more than his fair share of promising young fighters get caught in that trap. Most of the time there was a sad story and an unfortunate set of circumstances that led up to it but the end result was always the same. Another fighter who amounted to nothing. 

Mickey wasn’t a heartless man, but he’d lived a hard life and he was deeply pragmatic. It was his job to pass on the knowledge he’d gleaned from years of experience in the ring. He was a boxer after all not a social worker, and over the years he’d wasted a lot of time and energy on people who had thrown away their chances. He wasn’t about to do it again. If Rocky was mixed up with a loan shark it was only a matter of time until he ended up in jail or worse. 

As the years went by Mickey tried to ignore Rocky. The boy did what he could on his own, but eventually he hit a wall and stagnated. Even so, he refused to give up. Eventually his continued presence at the gym really began to irk Mickey. Why did he stay? Most people in his situation would have quit by now, but Rocky just kept showing up. He had tenacity in spades, and heart, and a fierce left hook all of which, if fully developed, would have made him a tremendous fighter. Watching someone with so much potential actively pissing his life away made him angry and he took it out on the boy whenever they crossed paths. 

Now, for whatever reason, the universe had chosen to smile on Rocky. It didn’t matter if he’d wasted his potential so far Mickey decided. The chance of a lifetime had just been handed to him on a silver platter. Now the only thing that mattered was if he knew what to do about it.

The reporters had asked him how he would fight the Champ and Rocky had mumbled something about how he would do the best he could. The cold fact of the matter was that his best wasn’t good enough. Not even close. Mickey began to worry in earnest. Going into the ring unprepared against someone like Apollo Creed was was dangerous. He didn’t want to see the kid get seriously hurt. 

It wasn’t just the lack of training that concerned him either. This racket chewed fighters up and spit them out like nothing and Mickey knew what that was like from experience. How many times had he been screwed over because he didn’t know any better and nobody was there to help him? How different might his life have been if someone had been in his corner? He grabbed his hat and was out the door in record time. 

…………………………………………………………..

When Rocky finally got home from his meeting with Gazzo it was late. He collapsed on the couch and sat for a long time trying to process everything that had happened to him in the last 24 hours. The feeling of stunned euphoria was starting to wear off and now the reality of his situation was setting in. 

In his head he calculated how much time was left before the fight. Five weeks. It was no where near enough time to get ready. It was going to take a lot more than his usual routine to get into shape for something like this. Rocky fingered the thick envelope of money that Gazzo had given him. What he needed was some real help. Someone who could train him and help him come up with a strategy for this fight. Who was he kidding though. The only person he knew who could help him was Mickey, and Mickey thought he was a bum. 

“You had the talent to become a good fighter, and instead of that, you became a leg breaker for some cheap second rate loan shark.” Mickey had yelled for the whole gym to hear. It was hours later but the words still stung. 

Collecting wasn’t something Rocky was proud of. Things had gotten really bad after his parents left and Gazzo was the only one who noticed or seemed to care. He was down to his last dollar and about to be evicted when Gazzo offered him a job. Rocky would always be grateful to him, but it hadn’t taken long to realize that he hated collecting. It was funny. He could beat someone unconscious in the ring and sleep like a baby at night but every time he had to physically hurt someone who didn’t have the money to pay up it made him sick with guilt. 

Rocky had promised himself he’d quit collecting as soon as he got better fights. He’d been younger then and filled with idealistic dreams about being the next Marciano. Then life closed in. Rent was due, bills had to be paid, and often times he’d sacrificed training to go after more money for Gazzo. As a result he had lost fights he knew he could have won if only he had been better prepared. Meanwhile the fighting career he so desperately wanted was slipping further and further away. 

Before he knew it he found himself on the verge of his 30th birthday with nothing to show for it but a filthy apartment, a mediocre record, and a miraculously unbroken nose. If he was really honest with himself, the reason Mickey’s words hurt so much was because deep down he knew they were true.

He knew he had no business fighting someone like Creed. He’d told Miles Jergens that this morning. All those reporters who interviewed him on the News thought he was a joke. Even his best friend didn’t have much confidence in his abilities. The only person who actually believed in him was Adrian. 

“Einstein flunked out of school—-twice. Beethoven was deaf, and Helen Keller was blind—I think Rocky has a good chance.” She had defiantly told Paulie. He didn’t know how she knew all those things, but when she said them he felt like he could take on the world and win. She made him feel invincible. 

A smile played around the corners of his mouth. He still could hardly believe what had happened with Adrian last night. This morning he’d held her as she slept and wondered what she would say when she woke up. Everything had happened so fast that he began to worry that she might regret her decision to trust him. Then she began to stir. He held his breath. For a split second she’d looked confused and unsure of her surroundings. Then she looked up at him with an enchanting smile that melted his heart and happily snuggled closer. She fit against him like the missing piece of a puzzle. 

“So how you feelin’ this morning? You ok?” God, he hoped so. He’d never been with a virgin before. The last thing he wanted to do was to hurt her. 

“Fine. A little sore, maybe.” She giggled softly. “I can’t believe we did that.” 

“Me neither.” He smiled as he ran his fingers through her silky brown hair. “You’re not sorry or nothin’ are ya?” 

“No.” She pushed herself up onto one elbow and looked him straight in the eye. “Not at all.” 

Then she’d leaned over and kissed him with so much passion that he could scarcely believe this was the same shy Adrian he went to see every day in the pet store. They made love again only this time they were in bed instead of on the floor and when he finally took her home it was hours later. 

Yes, Adrian believed in him, but what would she think if he got knocked out in the first round? He couldn’t bear the thought of looking foolish in front of Adrian. What was he going to do?

A knock at the door roused him from his thoughts and he got up to answer it. 

“Hello Kid. I seen ya light. Can I come in?”

“Sure.”

The last person he’d expected a visit from tonight was Mickey. He seemed to have a lot on his mind and started talking the second he walked through the door. There was something about his overly friendly demeanor that it put Rocky on edge. Finally he got to the point. 

“I’m here to warn you that you gotta be very careful about this shot you got at the title. Like the Bible says, you ain’t gonna get a second chance.”

Rocky had sat through a fair amount of Sunday school classes as a child and he was pretty sure that wasn’t really in the Bible but he nodded anyway. “Yeah.” 

“What you need is a manager.”

A manager? Was he serious? After ignoring him, insulting him, belittling his fights, and finally taking away his locker now he wanted to manage him? Why? No doubt he’d heard on the news how much Rocky would get for the fight and was trying to get in on the deal. Bitter disappointment rose in his chest. He would have expected something like this from Paulie, but not Mick. Even though he was mean old bastard he was a straight shooter and nobody knew more about fighting than he did. Rocky had always respected him.

As he stood there trying to process his feelings, Mickey was going on and on about how he’d done it all. How he’d knocked somebody named Ginny Russo out of the ring and how many stitches he’d gotten in the process. He pulled out a newspaper clipping and tried to show it to him but Rocky wasn’t listening. The anger boiling up inside of him was becoming harder and harder to control and the longer he listened the more furious he became. 

He looked around the room for something to occupy his hands. Maybe if he kept himself distracted he could keep from losing his temper. The dart board caught his eye so he grabbed several darts and began throwing them harder than he needed to. Each one hit the bathroom door with a resounding thud and stuck there. 

No matter how many times he said no the old man just kept talking. The naked desperation in his voice was so obvious now that Rocky inwardly cringed. Watching a man like Mickey beg was a terrible thing to see. Once again he tried to turn him down.

“The fight’s set. I don’t need no manager.”

“But kid, you can’t buy what I’m gonna give you.” Mickey pleaded. “I’ve got pain and I’ve got experience, an...” 

“I’ve got pain and experience too.” Rocky shot back. “You know, I could have used your help about ten years ago an’ you never helped me. You didn’t care.”

Since there seemed to be nowhere else to escape he shut himself in the bathroom and locked the door. It was a childish thing to do and Rocky knew it, but he was so furious he was afraid of what he might do if he didn’t. He stood there staring into the mirror until he heard the apartment door close. Figuring the coast was clear, he burst out of the bathroom only to find Mick still putting on his hat. Quickly he retreated, but not before he got a good look at Mick’s face which seemed to have aged 20 years in a matter of minutes. He felt a twinge of guilt. 

This time when Rocky opened the door he was alone. In an instant all the hurt, anger, self doubt, and fear that had been building up for so long began pouring out of his mouth. There was no stopping it. He shouted and yelled and pounded his fist on the door until he felt empty. Then he paused for a moment and thought. 

What the hell was he doing? Right now he needed help, and like an idiot he had just turned away the one person who could give it to him

..................................................................

Mickey felt every one of his 76 years as he slowly trudged home through the cold November evening. He’d known the minute Rocky brought up the locker that it was over, but instead of saving face, he’d plowed ahead. The urge to share what he’d learned over the years had been so overwhelming that he hadn’t been able to stop himself. What a fool he’d been. 

It wasn’t just disappointment he was feeling though. Listening to Rocky’s borderline hysterical shouting as he stood in the stairwell after he left the apartment had filled him with guilt. He’d never thought about it from Rocky’s perspective before. He should have helped the kid. Maybe he wouldn’t have had to work for a loan shark if he’d had some guidance. Maybe...

“Hey, Mick!” 

Startled, Mickey turned around and saw Rocky running after him. For a split second he thought the kid was going to hit him and braced himself. Then he saw his face was open and free of malice and relaxed. 

Rocky jogged to a stop. “Yo Mick, uh y’know, I’m sorry ‘bout everything.”

“It’s alright, kid.” He replied sadly. “You’re right. I didn’t help ya and I should have. I owe you an apology.” 

Rocky self-consciously rubbed the back of his neck. “S’ok.” He paused for a moment. “What’dya say we start over, huh? You still want to be my manager?”

Mickey’s eyes widened with surprise. If the situation were reversed would he have done the same? He wasn’t sure. Rocky’s willingness to forgive and give him a second chance spoke volumes about his character. The kid had heart! A spark of excitement ignited and began to grow inside Mickey as he reached out to shake Rocky’s hand. 

“Absolutely.”


End file.
